It's unlikely anyone knows who first uttered the line -- although it was obviously a man or teenage boy caught by his wife, girlfriend, mother, teacher or some other important female figure -- but the running joke about guys being caught in possession of a Playboy magazine is that they're only reading it for the articles.
Similarly, when those same males are confronted/reminded that the non-text versions of such mags exploit and otherwise diminish women as simple sex objects, they're likely to give the standard reply that most of the women weren't forced to pose for such shots and are smart enough to use their God-given (and often scientifically enhanced) physical attributes to their financial advantage.
The former argument is debatable (and laughable at that), but the latter stereotype -- of porn models being busty, bubble-headed bimbos -- is what fuels the comedy "The House Bunny." And while any number of porn stars/models or curvy actresses could have been picked for the title part, the filmmakers chose Anna Faris -- probably best known for playing ditzy and bumbling in the "Scary Movie" flicks - the play up and off the Playboy bunny stereotype.
Despite being an obvious choice for the role, it's also something of an inspired one for it's the older than she looks actress who delivers enough of a goofy and often rather funny performance to offset the otherwise predictable, college-based, Cinderella-esque comedy material offered up here.
Directed by Fred Wolf from a script by Karen McCullah Lutz & Kirsten Smith, the pic revolves around Faris' ditzy character who gets booted out of Hugh Hefner's bunny hutch and then finds herself living in a sorority house with a bunch of young women who -- save for "American Idol" runner-up Katherine McPhee playing a pregnant college student of all things -- likely wouldn't ever get an invite from Hef to appear in his mag.
While it's possible some viewers might find some inkling of humor in the stereotypical nerdy girl characters (the best being Emma Stone as the goofy leader and Kat Dennings as the multi-pierced and apathetic, yet sarcastic loner), the best bits revolve around Faris' portrayal of a good-natured but scatterbrained 27-year-old (that being 59 in "bunny years") who's never met a malapropism she couldn't pass up. Along with other goofy behavior -- including repeating people's names in a deep, gravely voice to better remember them -- she occasionally gets some brief but decent mileage as well as big laughs (even of the belly busting kind) from the material.
That is, until the filmmakers feel the need to bust the stereotype and prove that her character isn't a complete airhead after all, while her slightly younger charges live up their sexy makeover changes until they realize they've betrayed their true selves.
Beyond being completely predictable, both plot developments feel contrived (Shelley falling for Colin Hanks' nursing home manager character is an underwritten and thus complete bust of a subplot) and ultimately undermine the comedy and tame the risqué material (although I'm frankly surprised the filmmakers didn't go full comedy guns -- not to mention naughty body bits - blazing into full, R-rated territory).
Aside from that, the filmmakers simply don't stray much with the usual material, including the makeover montage, the rival sorority girl who acts all nice but is really mean and pouts at the end when her efforts are stymied, and various budding but similarly underwritten romantic elements.
Had they focused more of their time and energy on having fun with the ditzy bombshell stereotype and leaving her that way without any unnecessary character growth, this could have been so much better. As it stands, "The House Bunny" offers a surprising amount of decent laughs, but suffers from thinking we're watching it for the social commentary and related articles. It rates as a 4 out of 10.
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